


Ronan's First

by nomadicdeer (someonestolemycoffee)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: /alcohol, /drug mention, Bottom Ronan, Canon timeline divergence, I promise, M/M, PWP, Top Adam, adam doesn't know that, i have no idea when this would take place, i know what you're about, i know what you're here for, no trk spoilers, pynch - Freeform, ronan hasn't kissed anyone the poor bby, ronan is very okay with everything, smut in the second part, written pre-trk shhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6646387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemycoffee/pseuds/nomadicdeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan's never kissed anyone--well, not really. He's very okay with everything that ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vxtya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vxtya/gifts).



> Have fun wowie because I sure did  
> no smut in this half but I super suggest you read it anyway obviously, you'll be lost as shit otherwise

Nino’s was loud. It was bright, a blinking neon sign behind his head making Ronan wish he could copy Noah and just put his head down for a while without being questioned. His face was turned away from the sign, his eyes closed. Ronan could see the dark splotch of his cheek, black and purple like a sickly bruise, spindly green-black veins running from it.

He wondered if Noah felt pain, if it hurt him to be here. He probably wouldn’t be the one to ask him that. As usual, his head was resting on Blue’s sweater-clad arm. 

Today was a loose knit top, a lacy skirt that might have once been part of a sundress flowing underneath. She was all light colors that day, tan and white, with an assortment of light hair ties and clips keeping her hair where she wanted it. Silver and beads adorned her wrists and she had chalked bits of her hair purple, just on the ends. Noah’s hands had gone a fluorescent violet when he was touching it earlier that day. Even then, Ronan could see dustings of it across his fingers easily. Or maybe it was just the reflections on the sign, blinking obnoxiously still.

“My first kiss?” Gansey pondered, Ronan letting himself be brought back into the conversation at the table. “Uh, there was this school dance at the middle school I went to. I think I was in sixth grade? Maybe seventh? There were a ton of tiny children in formalwear, I remember that,” he smiled, a laugh coming easily from Blue’s throat. Ronan became weirdly aware of how close she was sitting to him; Noah was on her arm, but her’s and Gansey’s knees were obviously touching. Away from Gansey was Adam, then back to Ronan. And he was painfully aware that he and Adam were sitting nowhere near that close to each other.

Gansey was still telling his story. “—and there was this eighth grader that set off the smoke bomb as the trampoline broke,” he was smiling widely at the memory. Gansey was good at telling stories. Ronan almost wished he’d heard it in full. “So Kathy and I run because we don’t want to be caught at the scene of the crime. So we’re sitting near the sidewalk outside the front of the school, and I am ever so classy as to pull up some flowers from the front garden to give her.”

“Wait, what kind?” Noah asked. Ronan noticed he was awake, chin now propped on his hand and sitting up. He still leaned heavily on her arm. “The type of flower is very important.”

“I think it was daffodils,” he drew his eyebrows, like he was trying desperately to remember. “Anyway, I give them to her and she tries to tuck one behind her ear, but her glasses are in the way. So I go to help her and she’s blushing, and we kiss awkwardly in the light of the street lamps and approaching police sirens. It was absolutely glorious.”

“Amazing,” Blue laughed. “Sadly, I don’t have a good story like that,” she said, leaning back on Noah as he did to her.

“I don’t either,” Noah pouted. “I mean, I do, but it’s not that fantastic. Police, yes, but nothing like that.”

“Tell us,” Gansey said with an easy smile. Ronan nodded to him, hoping he wouldn’t be questioned.

Noah smiled calmly, closing his eyes and humming. “I was actually seventeen, it wasn’t long before I was killed, and I was at the skate park with a friend of mine. Someone smelled weed and snitched so the police were there and trying to find whoever had it. Hint, it was us. I ate most of it before they got there and then chewed a whole pack of gum. There was someone else there with a radio, and that song came on, the one that goes ‘don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?’” He said it in a high-pitched, mocking voice that almost make Blue choke soda into her nose.

“Do you mean ‘Don’t Cha’ by the Pussycat Dolls?” Gansey asked, laughing.

“Yeah, that song!” Noah smiled. “Anyway, this friend and I were always fake-flirty with each other. You know, how bros are,” he grinned, “and we were sitting on the edge of a ramp and this song was playing and he was singing the lyrics at me, all flirty and shit, and then he kissed me as the song was ending. And it was really nice, until the song changed and Hollaback Girl came on. I remember that one, because that song was my favorite. And he started laughing too much and we had to stop. Also, my breath probably smelled like weed. By then, the police had their dogs looking for us and I was like, thank everything my bowl was in a jar of peanut butter because I can’t eat that. And a dog was barking at my bag and they asked if I had weed so I said I didn’t. You know, like a liar? And I was prepared for this, so I pulled out a peanut butter granola bar and my friend noted that dogs really liked peanut butter.

“So The policewoman asked really nicely, can I check your bag? And I thought, god, I’m done. So I accepted my fate, and I handed her my bag. She found the peanut butter jar, and pulled it out along with the Oreos underneath it. She mentioned that she liked peanut butter with her Oreos too and suggested I get double stuffed because they’re better. As she was walking away we had another celebratory kiss over not getting arrested. So that’s all I’ve got, some illegal substances and bad music from 2005. But it’s not sucky.” He shrugged and Blue took a long sip of her soda, shaking her head.

“Amazing,” Adam laughed. “See, I’m boring. My first kiss was just this girl after a secret date in eighth grade because neither of our parents wanted us to date. It wasn’t even good, it was actually a bad kiss. How do you even get good first kiss stories?”

“See, I was seventeen. I want to know how you get other human beings to find you attractive that early on,” Noah muttered.

“What about you, Ronan?” Gansey looked over to him, who was zoned out staring at Adam’s hands, his fingers tapping on the table incessantly.

“Hm? Oh.” He stalled a moment, acting like he couldn’t remember. He settled on a half-truth. “The fuck if I remember. I've probably kissed someone as a little kid.” He shrugged and took a bite of pizza, hoping that it was good enough.

“I’m sure you guys have kissed people as children, you just don’t remember,” Blue waved off. Ronan gripped his pizza slice a little tighter, begging for the night to be over.

 

“Are you alright?” Adam asked, trailing behind the other three. Gansey, Blue, and Noah, walking easily next to each other over to the Pig.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly, throwing in a nod for good measure.

“Part of me was expecting for you to say Kavinsky was your first kiss,” he muttered. Ronan had only just heard him.

“You think I wouldn’t have my first kiss until then?” He snorted in derision. “I’m not some fucking virgin like you, Adam.” Don’t show weakness.

“I’m not either, I was just speculating,” he shrugged. He knew he wasn’t. Ronan wished he wasn’t being so harsh with him, but there was no going back now, was there? Thankfully, Adam didn’t have too much experience otherwise. He knew that this was Ronan’s default, his go-to.

“Stop speculating.”

“I’m gonna head back to the factory,” he heard Noah say mid-conversation. “I can’t drink anyway.”

“I think Ronan’s ears just perked up at the prospect of alcohol,” Adam laughed.

“We’re all going back to the factory if we’re drinking,” Gansey said, “and I don’t want Ronan drinking.”

“I don’t want Blue drinking,” she interjected. “Calla wanted me there for a reading at seven in the morning.”

“Okay, so the two of us are drinking tonight?” Gansey locked arms with Adam, looking evilly back at Ronan, who he knew wanted to drink with them.

“Don’t torture him,” Adam laughed.

“Fine, Ronan can too,” he fake-sighed, dropping Adam’s arm from his own.

“You act like I wouldn’t be drinking anyway?” Ronan asked, trying to sound as bored as possible at their antics.

Blue was brought home, and Adam walked into Monmouth Manufacturing with the other boys.

“I’ll supervise,” Noah offered.

“Aw, that’s like torture,” Gansey frowned. “Don’t you miss getting drunk with your friends?”

“Honestly? I was usually high, not drunk,” Noah shrugged. “With alcohol, you have to pee a lot more. I was never into that. The whole ‘breaking the seal’ rule was stupid, but I had an appetite anyway.” Gansey mentioned something about smoking being bad for you and Noah started debating that weed was way better for you than alcohol.

“In that case,” Ronan made his way to the liquor cabinets, “I’m getting the whiskey.”

There was no reason that he knew of to be drinking. But Ronan didn’t need a reason. He fed Chainsaw and sat with Adam and Gansey on the hideous couch that had recently been added. Noah was laying on the floor, playing some game on Gansey’s phone.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” he asked Adam, putting his glass down on the coffee table nearby.

“Not until noon,” he shrugged, taking a swig of what Ronan assumed was scotch. He only took a sip. It remained there until Ronan drank it instead.

The night ended early and Adam was sleeping in Noah’s room, as he did before he moved into the church. Ronan didn’t sleep that night though, and after they’d all moved to their rooms he snuck back downstairs for a beer. 

Reaching out to grab the bottle left stupidly on the counter, Ronan stiffened as he felt Adam’s hands on his waist. He didn’t need to turn to know who it was. He’d memorized the shape of his hands, knew the callouses across his palms, the cut on the side of his thumb that made a raised scar. He felt it across his side. Cold fingers on his bare, warm torso sent chills down his spine. They were cold, but definitely Adam’s. He put down the bottle and turned to face him.

Adam Parrish was all tanned skin warped with burns and bruises and raised scars, high cheekbones and a thin nose. He was messy hair that seemed too light for his complexion and eyes that melted Ronan. The corner of his mouth turned up when Ronan spun around, his own expression stuck in its usual grimace.

“What’re you doing up?” Ronan asked, keeping his hands to himself for once. Adam didn’t grin, but it was pretty damn close, Ronan though.

“I could ask you the same question, of course.” Hands trailed from his waist to his hips. Adam’s face pressed into the crook of his neck and Ronan leaned into him, letting himself feel the warmth of him. His fingers were the only things that were cold, he was burning. Adam’s nose nudged against his jaw and Ronan moved him away. He didn’t shove, he would never—he just ghosted away. He pressed their foreheads together instead.

“I’m going up to my room,” Ronan breathed out, heart racing but hesitant to offer. “I really don’t want to sleep alone. Come with me?” He liked that he didn’t really have to look him in the eye like this, both with their eyes open. They were too close to see each other. Ronan smelled alcohol on breath and didn’t know whose it was, but he was sure it was himself.

Adam nodded against him, linking their fingers in a way that pressed their palms together. “Lead the way.” He released Ronan’s hands and followed him up the staircase, careful of footsteps and creaking stairs even though Gansey was wearing headphones. The music was playing so loudly that Ronan could hear it—some Blink-182 song, though he wasn’t exactly sure of which one it was. Ronan closed his bedroom door behind them and threw the cloth sheet over a cawing Chainsaw’s cage. She went completely silent immediately.

“Such a good mother,” Adam teased with a faint smirk. Ronan rolled his eyes and brought him to sit down on the sloppily made bed shoved into the corner, kissing his temple and letting his fingertips trace over the hem of Adam’s button-up. Adam’s hands ran up his arms, tightening around his biceps, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. Their legs dangled over the edge, except Adam’s right that was rested comfortably on the mattress. Ronan felt Adam’s back arch as his hand ran up under his shirt, revealing a stretch of skin he wanted to explore insanely bad.

He popped the bottom button of Adam’s shirt, the fingers around his arms loosening a bit. Another button later, his hand could rest unrestrained on Adam’s bare waist as his fingers continued on the buttons. Adam’s head was resting on Ronan’s shoulder, hands moving to rest over the span of his chest as if he was ready to push him away, push him down, at any moment. Ronan popped every button up to the collar, both hands snaking under his shirt and pulling him closer by the small of his back, lips pressed under his ear. Adam squirmed, moving away from his mouth and back far enough to face him.

“Something wrong?” Ronan asked as cooly as he could, not worried after noting the happy pull at the corner of Adam’s mouth.

“That tickled,” he fake-pouted, pulling both legs onto the bed and lacing them with Ronan’s as he did the same. He pulled Ronan’s hips up so he was straddling Adam’s. He leaned his forehead to Ronan’s chest, hands nearing his lower back as his legs bent to hike him up further.

“How far do you want to go?” Ronan asked, avoiding a kiss. They’d gone further before, but something about that moment terrified him. It was more intimate, more more than he was used to. He was used to blowjobs behind buildings and sex in the back of cars, none of which involved kissing, or hugging, or any kind of talking.

Adam shrugged. He was shrugging a lot that night. “As far as you’ll let me take it?” His hips rolled up and one hand slid over his jeans to grab his ass. He moved closer to Ronan, leaning up towards him. “Can I kiss you?”

Hesitantly still, Ronan laced one hand into Adam’s, the other into his hair. He answered with a small kiss on his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth but not close enough. Adam leaned up to kiss him properly, his free hand gently tilting Ronan’s chin. Adam opened his mouth slightly, Ronan quickly following suit as Adam overtook the situation. Their linked hands pressed into the sheets below them, Ronan’s over Adam’s, palms met. Ronan pulled at the wavy hair at the nape of Adam’s neck, Adam’s hand still pressed to his back as he felt Adam’s tongue flick out at his lower lip.

Ronan was absolutely positive that he was happy with his first kiss.


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi this is the part with the smut have fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all know this has been written for a while i was just holding off

Adam pulled away from him, his hand moving from Ronan’s chin to the back of his head, rubbing over the hair that was just starting to grow back. Ronan’s stomach was in a knot and he felt the heat in his ears, hoping Adam didn’t notice but knowing he did. “You’re cute,” he muttered, leaning forward further and kissing the flushed pink cartilage.

“You’re patronizing,” Ronan countered, throat rough. Now his cheeks were surely dusted pink as well. Ronan’s hand drifted down to Adam’s jeans, thumb hooking into a belt loop.

“Your voice is such a turn-on,” he muttered, kissing down from his jaw. His thumb pressed into the nape of his neck, traveling up to hold him in place as Ronan tried to pull back. Adam smirked against his skin and went back to the place he just kissed, at the juncture of his collarbone. Ronan couldn’t stop himself before he let out a small moan from his raspy throat. “So fucking hot.”

“You’re irritating,” Ronan breathed, pulling back as much as he could with Adam’s hand on his head, maneuvering to bring their lips back together. He bit and pulled at Adam’s bottom lip, detangling their fingers and bringing both of his hands up to cup Adam’s face, kissing him deeper. He stood up on his knees to get a better angle, leaning over him until Adam got up as well.

Adam’s hands went to Ronan’s hips, one slowly snaking around and slipping under his jeans, groping his ass and grinding their hips together slowly. Their lips pulled apart, a strand of saliva breaking between them. Ronan could see Adam’s pupils blown wide with lust. “You’re gorgeous,” Adam said. Their foreheads pressed together, cupping each other’s faces with both hands.

“You’re degrading.”

“Your lips are delicious.”

“Your nose is crooked.”

“Your eyes are heartbreaking.”

“Your face makes me want to punch you.”

“Your body makes me want to fuck you.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Gods, that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Lips clashed back together and clothes were removed by the layer. Teasing pulls at belt loops, thumbs moving feather-light over erections through boxers, chests pressed together and hips over hips, moving together perfectly.

Adam leaned back as Ronan slid legs over his waist. “May I?” he asked, hands tracing down to his hips, thumbs on the waistband of his boxers. Ronan nodded, maneuvering to allow them to be slipped off, thrown to the floor.

He wasn’t shy. He never was. But sitting here, bucking into his friend’s hand and trying not to, head back to reveal a throat being attacked by a mouth that had just been over his own, he was almost self-conscious. Forced-down moans became mumbled encouragements and a hand laced into the hair of the head buried in the juncture of his neck, the other holding onto Adam’s knee for balance.

Ronan ground his hips down, feeling Adam hard beneath him. Lips detached from his skin, a muttered “fuck” that he wouldn’t hear if he wasn’t so close to his lips. He scrambled away from Adam, telling him to stop.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.

“I was going to come, and I want to keep going.”

“Do you have lube, then?”

Ronan nodded a little, leaning over his torso and taking it out of his drawer, but throwing it to the other side of the bed. “Not yet.” He dismounted Adam and moved down to lay between his legs, pulling off his underwear so they were on equal ground. He wasn’t hesitant to kiss anymore; lips pressed to the inside of his thigh, fingers tracing delicate patterns up and down the other one.

Adam’s knees moved over Ronan’s shoulders. His lips moved closer to his crotch, Adam’s hand hovering just above his head—like he was ready to force him down. Ronan squared his jaw, moved to his hips. He saw Adam’s hand move back, a hand in his own hair, or maybe in the pillow, he couldn’t see well from such an angle.

Experimentally, he gripped the base and licked a stripe up his cock. Adam’s back arched, the hand over his head pressing down. Ronan was expecting to be shoved down, but he wasn’t; it was kind--loving, even. He was tempted to pull away. Instead, he peppered kisses up the shaft of his cock before taking the head into his mouth.

“Fuck, Ronan,” Adam’s voice wasn’t rough, but it seemed deeper, sexier. His fingers slid over his scalp, like they’d go through hair if there was enough of it to grab. He still didn’t push down.

He set a pace, worked down to the base of his dick, felt the tip in the back of his throat. This was his favorite part, the warm well of tears, the natural reflex. He didn’t have much of a gag reflex anymore, but his eyes still watered. Adam looked down at him as he began to bob his head, a hand on his hip to make sure they didn’t buck up too much yet.

“Ronan, stop, are you okay?” He tapped at Ronan’s hand. He let his cock slide from his mouth and looked up.

“What’s up?” he asked as casually as he could from the boy whose penis he just had in his mouth.

“You’re crying, don’t hurt yourself,” his hands cupped Ronan’s cheeks, thumbs wiping away tears. His eyes were nervous, a crease in his brow. Ronan leaned up, opened his mouth so say something, but he forgot what it was when Adam leaned in the rest of the way and closed the space between them. Teeth bit lips and no blood was drawn.

Ronan slid his knees up so he was between Adam’s, sitting on his feet as the other boy was leaning over him. He was at the perfect level to break their kiss and trail down to kiss his neck, down to his collarbone where he set to make hickeys. He would never make them above T-shirt level—he wasn’t evil.

“Ronan,” Adam breathed out. He didn’t say it like something dangerous, like he meant to say knife or poison. He said it like he meant to say Ronan, like he was worth loving like this, like no harm could come from loving him like this.

He felt brave. He could do this. Lips made their way to his neck again, successful marks already made on his chest. He bit gently at his earlobe, went back to his jaw. Adam had let his hands travel down to his ass, squeezing and almost pulling him up with the motion. “Fuck me,” Ronan muttered, almost like pleading if he were anyone else.

Adam reached over for the lube and Ronan tried to take it from him. “May I?” Adam raised a questioning eyebrow. Ronan nodded and let Adam direct him to lay against the wall. He kissed down his body slowly, almost painfully so. Suddenly, Ronan had no interest in taking it slow. But Adam clearly did, so he shut up about it.

“Stay still,” Adam ordered, slicking his fingers. One hovered over his asshole and another questioning eyebrow was raised to him. Ronan nodded as much as he could and closed his eyes to the pleasure of his finger. He was pathetic, he thought, that he had to hold back moans over one finger, like a damn virgin if there ever was one.

“More,” he gasped, biting his lip. It wasn’t his first time, he could take the heat. Adam obliged, a second finger joining the first and twisting inside him, sliding in until the last knuckle was at his rim and scissoring out. Minutes passed of just this, but Ronan was content with that. He slip down the wall, onto his back.

“You sound beautiful,” Adam whispered, eyes half-lidded. “I want to hear more.” A third finger teased in and his soft lips pressed gently onto Ronan’s sharp jaw, under his chin and down his throat. Ronan was sure he could feel the vibrations of his vocal cords as he suppressed sounds of pleasure. “I know you’re holding back. You shouldn’t. I want to hear your voice.”

“You’re unoriginal,” Ronan just held a laugh, letting his breath carry out small groans of appreciation to the fingers slowly working him open. “Gods, please just fuck me already.”

“Impatient,” Adam tutted. “That’s kind of hot.” He pulled his fingers out, Ronan frowning at the feeling of being empty. He shifted his hips as Adam asked for a condom.

“Drawer,” he nodded towards it. Inside he kept a box of them, just in case. He was glad he did, in that moment.

Adam rolled it on and lubed himself up, pulling Ronan’s leg up so it was around his waist. He tightened it, ready to bring the other up as well. He positioned himself, looking up at Ronan again, waiting for permission again. Ronan didn’t respond, too caught up in the bliss of the hands on his waist and the torso his leg was wrapped around.

“Ronan,” a kiss of his throat, his head leaned far back. He was propped up on his elbows, Adam’s hands on either side of his head. Adam’s voice was deeper than usual, sending chills through him. Kisses continued down to his collar bone. “Do you want me?”

“Fuck yes,” he actually groaned this time, voice rolling and deep. Adam pushed in, just the head before working in by the inch. Ronan tried to push back against him, tried to use his leg to pull him closer, but he was held down by his hips.

Adam worked himself in to the base, until their hips were pressed together. He closed the space between them, brushing lips together, both of them supported on elbows now. Ronan’s hips rolled up, trying to feel more of him, trying to find friction between them.

Adam moved slowly, carefully. Ronan still wasn’t in the mood for careful—unless it was with Adam, he supposed. He let himself be pinned down to the bed by chaste kisses, not even touching his lips. He allowed himself to be thrusted into gently, slowly, lovingly, not sporting any resistance. His other leg finally came up to meet the first one, both wrapping around Adam in a silent plea for more.

“I bet this is driving you insane,” Adam whispered into his ear, smirk noticeable in his voice. “I bet you want to be face-down, fucked into the mattress, called a slut. You probably want me to come on your face, take you hard and rough.”

Another deep moan came from his throat, squirming as his dick became uncomfortably hard. “Not quite,” he muttered. One elbow remained down, the other lifting as he went to cup his face, eyes softening for him. “My fantasies about you usually have more bondage. Usually.”

Adam seemed pleasantly shocked. “Well, that’s for another day. For now,” he rolled them over as quickly as he could, pulled out to position them so he was sitting upright and Ronan was kneeling over him. “How about this?” Hands glanced over his waist and rested on his hips, letting Ronan help himself back onto Adam’ cock. It felt different, this position, as he knew it would. “Let’s just enjoy our first time together, hm?”

“Mm,” Ronan nodded, unable to compose himself the way he’d like to.

“You’re incredible,” he kissed Ronan’s shoulder as he lifted himself up, sitting back down a bit harder than he meant to. Adam helped him go slower, helped him on shaking thighs and weak knees.

“Your cock his huge.” He almost purred this, too lost in pleasure to come up with a decent insult just then.

“You’re so tight,” he let a hand drift from his hip to his painfully hard, leaking cock. A thumb ran over the head, smearing precome down his length. Ronan buried his face into the juncture of Adam’s neck, hands gripping his shoulders. He moved himself up and down on Adam’s cock, hips coming up to meet his. One hand was still on his cock, the other squeezing his ass. Adam timed the jerks of his cock with the thrusting pace Ronan had set, much faster than the one Adam had previously held.

Soon, Ronan was shaking too much to ride him on his own, having found his prostate. He pounded into it, Adam taking the hint and moving his hand from his ass to his waist, holding him up and thrusting his hips, aiming still for the nerves that sent him into a moaning mess. His brought one hand up to his mouth and bit down.

“No, let me hear you,” Adam urged his hand away. “Please, I want to hear you.”

Ronan didn’t move his hand, but let up enough that low, deep moans just escaped his lips. Adam kissed him deeply, hand falling limply to his side, the hand holding him up moving to his balls. Ronan struggled but managed to keep upright on his own, hands drifting up to his neck, cupping Adam’s face and pulling him sharply forward to kiss him. This time the kiss was deep and passionate, tongues pressed to each other, and Adam did this thing with his chin that made Ronan absolutely melt.

“Fuck, Adam keep going. I’m so close,” he panted out, coming only a moment later, spilling onto his and Adam’s chest. Adam still thrusted into him, milking his orgasm before finally reaching his own, the pressure of Ronan’s ass clenching around him bringing him over the edge.

“Fuck, Ronan,” he moaned--like he meant to say Ronan--and moved a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. He pulled out, Ronan falling back on the bed as Adam pulled the condom off, tied it, and tossed it in the bin. He fell back next to Ronan.

“Did you know you’re great?” Ronan asked, yanking the blanket up, pulling it over both of their heads. He pulled Adam over so Ronan’s chest was his pillow.

“Hold on, we’re not going to bed yet,” Adam stopped him. “We’re washing up first.” He pulled the blanket back down to reveal a pouting Ronan. “Please? Lube and come doesn’t feel great when it dries, you know that.”

“Fine,” Ronan groaned, getting up and leading him to the nearby bathroom/kitchen/laundry room. They narrowly avoided Gansey seeing them, who thankfully still had his headphones in, and he didn’t see them dodge around the corner. Once the coast was clear, Ronan pulled him in for a hug, arms around his waist.

“Next time,” Adam kissed the top of his head, fingers ghosting over the ridges of his rib cage, “I think you should fuck me.”

“Next time, hm?” Ronan’s eyes were heavy as he looked up to him. “There’s gonna be a next time?” His voice was just heavy enough to sound hopeful.

“I was hoping, but if you don’t—“

“Of fucking course I do,” Ronan muttered into his shoulder, refusing to let him see the pink on his cheeks.

“Well, then next time you definitely should fuck me.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, moving further into the room. “Now, let’s clean up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you dying because I'm dying

**Author's Note:**

> smut in part two ',:))


End file.
